Nox In Aeternum Est
by OmnisMortalis
Summary: Harry Potter is depressed. He's already lost Sirius, what else could go wrong? Apparently a lot. Warning: contains RAPE, TORTURE, SLASH. Do not read if you can't handle it. Full warning inside.
1. Chapter 1

Nox In Aeternum Est

Rated M (for a reason people)

Summary: Harry Potter is depressed. He's already lost Sirius, what else could go wrong? Apparently a lot. Warning: will rape, torture, language, and SLASH. Dark Harry. Eventual HP/LV, still working out the details. Do not read if you can't handle it. You have been warned, I expect no flames. This is my first story, so constructive criticism would be nice.

**Chapter 1**

Unbeknownst to his many supporters, Harry Potter was currently suffering through the worst depression he had ever faced. He had had years of torment at the hands of his abusive relatives, the Dursleys, but the hopelessness he felt as a child was nothing compared to the emptiness and guilt he felt now. Even though he had only known Sirius Black for two years, those two years had given him a sense of family, something Harry had never had before. But now Sirius was dead, and it was all his fault.

If only he had listened Hermione, none of this would have happened. Harry never would have gone to the Department of Mysteries, never would have risked his friends' lives if he had thought things through. He should have known that it was Voldemort playing with his mind. It was only a matter of time, after all, if he could see into Voldemort's mind, Voldemort would have been able to see into his mind. Voldemort had exploited Harry's love for his godfather. Harry would not stand by if he thought his godfather was in trouble, and Voldemort knew this. And so Harry, like a true Gryffindor, had rushed to the Department of Mysteries without thinking of the consequences. In doing so, he caused his godfather's death. For in the end, it was Sirius who had to come to Harry's rescue. And now he was dead.

In moments of clarity, Harry was consumed not by grief but by thoughts of revenge; he wanted to cause Bellatrix Lestrange as much pain as he felt now. His cruciatus curse may have been weak before, but he would make sure that by the next time he saw Lestrange, she would know exactly how he felt about her. However these moments were few and far between; for the most part, Harry was just plain depressed.

Returning to his aunt and uncle's house was not helping Harry's mind recover; rather, his relatives were doing their best to make his life hell. In all the years he'd lived with them, Harry's relatives had insulted him, beaten him, and starved him. And while he hated them for it, Harry was used to this type of abuse. However there was something new about the way his uncle was behaving this summer.

If Harry said something his relatives didn't like, there were certain things he had come to expect would happen. Vernon's face would turn purple, veins popping out of his forehead. Then, his uncle would force Harry up to the Dudley's second bedroom, the one Harry had been using for 5 years now. Vernon would then force Harry to take off his shirt. If Harry refused to take it off himself, Vernon would rip it off him, not caring if he nearly pulled Harry's arms out of their sockets. Then came the beating. Harry had learned by now not to cry or to scream, for sounds of his pain only seemed to incite his uncle to keep going. The only sounds in the room would be the smack of the belt on Harry's back and Vernon panting. Harry was used to this. What he was not used to was his uncle muttering strangely to himself after every beating. If Harry was less absorbed in his grief and physical pain he would have seen the telltale bulge in his uncle's pants. But Harry couldn't care less about his uncle and his "lessons". All he cared about was that his Sirius was gone, and he was never coming back.

Nothing changed for a while. In fact, Harry's life, depressing as it was, took on a sort of routine. Harry would wake up, do his chores like a good little slave, "step out of line" sometime in the afternoon, and get beaten by his uncle. After these beatings Harry would carefully tiptoe down the stairs and sneak out of the house. He didn't go far; he didn't see the point. He just needed an escape from his insane relatives. Harry would make his way down Privet Drive to the nearby park, where he would sit on the swings for hours reflecting on his life. Eventually, not wanting to get locked out, Harry would slowly walk back to the Dursley's. Then he would retreat into his small bedroom and try sleep away his painful emotions. Sometimes he was successful, but most times, Harry ended up sobbing into his pillow until he finally managed to wear himself out enough to sleep.

One day everything changed.

Harry was supposed to be weeding the garden. He knew this, and he knew his uncle would punish him severely as soon as he found out that Harry had not completed his task. Nonetheless, Harry couldn't bring himself to labor under the July sun. Why? Two reasons. For one, Harry thought that if he was going to be beaten one way or another, he may as well skip the hard labor. For another, because a small part of Harry wanted to be punished. A little voice in Harry's mind told him that even though the beatings his uncle gave him were for ridiculous reasons, he deserved to somehow be punished for his failures. Harry couldn't deny that he had failed: he had failed his friends and worse, he had failed his godfather and been a direct cause his demise. And so, Harry waited in his room for the inevitable.

* * *

Vernon Dursley had had yet another grueling day at work. Or at least, he considered it to be difficult. Sucking up to people wasn't easy after all. And while he spend most of his office time trying to move up the company ladder, it was usually a pointless endeavor. The only opportunity he had ever had had been with the Masons, and he had lost his chance because of his nephew's...abnormalities. So, as usual, Vernon was in a foul mood.

As Vernon entered number 4 Privet Drive, he found himself grinning. He sincerely hoped that the boy had done something wrong today. Anything to give him an excuse to try out his latest idea. Sure, Vernon enjoyed beating the shit out of his nephew. But what Vernon really wanted was to break the boy's spirit. Harry was obviously still fighting back, despite his clear depression; he was sarcastic and rude to his relatives and he often refused to complete his assigned chores. Vernon's grin grew wider, 'Well' he thought, 'if a good whipping won't teach the freak his lesson, I'll make sure he learns it this time.'

"Petunia?" he called from the doorway, "Where are you?"

"Right here, darling" she replied. Petunia hurriedly stuffed the roast into the oven and made her way over to her husband. Giving him a small peck on the cheek, she said "How was your day?"

Vernon scowled. "The usual," he said gruffly. Petunia, used to this response, merely nodded and returned to the kitchen. She was very aware of the her husband's frustration with his job, and knew that he wouldn't want to talk about it. Vernon did not like to speak of his own shortcomings, preferring to take out his anger on the boy.

"Vernon", said Petunia, her voice full of worry, "Duddikins won't be home until late, he's out with his friends." After the incident with the dementy things last year, Petunia was very reluctant to let her precious boy out of her sight.

Vernon ignored her. He loved his wife, but sometimes she worried herself over the smallest things. Especially when it came to their son. Vernon, on the other hand, thought Dudley was old enough to take care of himself. He was more concerned about what his nephew had done while he was away, so he could find some reason to punish him.

"Where's the boy?"

Petunia pursed her lips. "How should I know? I haven't seen him all day." She peered out the window into the slightly untidy garden. "He was supposed to weed the garden at some point, but from what I can see, he hasn't touched it."

Vernon was inwardly gleeful. "So he thinks he can skip his chores now does he?" Vernon smiled in a most disturbing way and headed towards the stairs, all the while muttering to himself.

* * *

Harry was lying on his bed, once again thinking about his godfather. He was so immersed in his memories that he barely noticed when his uncle entered the room.

"Boy!"

Startled out of his thoughts, Harry scarcely had time to sit up before his uncle was yanking him off the bed.

"What is it uncle dearest, have I done something wrong?" Harry smiled innocently. Vernon's face, already bright red, turned a lovely shade of violet.

"Shirt off! Hands against the wall!"

Harry sighed. He knew this was coming, but it didn't make it anymore pleasant to endure. Little did he know what his uncle really had planned.

Harry quickly took off his gigantic shirt and did as he was told. He knew the longer he took to obey his uncle, the longer Vernon would beat him for.

Vernon drank in the sight of his nephew half naked and took a deep breath. Something in Vernon knew what he was planning was wrong, but most of him really didn't give a damn. Vernon was not a man of morals; he did whatever he thought would give him the most pleasure in life, not caring about what it did to anyone else.

As Vernon took of his belt and began to smack it against his nephew's back, he took note of the boy's silence. 'That won't do,' he thought. Vernon wanted to hear the boy sobbing and begging him to stop. Vernon brought the belt down harder, and saw that he was drawing blood. Harry seemed to notice the increase in force as well and began to breathe very deeply to keep himself from crying out. Vernon frowned at the blood running down his nephew's back. He didn't want the boy _too _injured, or he wouldn't get the reaction he wanted from the second part of his "lesson".

Harry was surprised when his uncle stopped beating him after only ten minutes or so. Normally his uncle would punish him for at least half an hour after he had "misbehaved." His uncle would only stop when he was too out of breath to continue. Harry figured Vernon was merely taking a break, and would resume thrashing him in a moment. Therefore Harry, his back to his uncle, didn't see Vernon pulling down his pants and boxers. Harry didn't have the faintest idea of what was really going on until his uncle's erection was pressed up against him.

Vernon had Harry pinned to the wall. There was no escape.

As Vernon began to pull down Harry's jeans, Harry was in shock. This couldn't be happening. He was Harry fucking Potter. He was not about to be raped by his uncle. Dumbledore was keeping an eye on him wasn't he? Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to him. Dumbledore must have wards on the house that would tell him what was happening. Dumbledore would rescue him, wouldn't he?

Vernon had kept Harry's hands pinned above his head with one hand and removed Harry's remaining clothing with the other. Finally, when Harry was fully unclothed, Vernon made his move. Harry, in shock, didn't register as his uncle pulled him over to his bed and slammed him face down into the covers. Harry's brain was focused solely on thoughts of rescue.

"Remember who's in control, boy. This is my house, and you live by _my _rules. This is your punishment for breaking them."

And with that Vernon thrust into Harry.

Tears rolled down Harry's face. Dumbledore hadn't come to his rescue. He and his fucking Order of the Phoenix were just going to sit back and let the Boy Who Lived get raped. This couldn't be happening. 'But it _is _happening' said a voice in Harry's mind. 'No one's going to save you.'

Something in Harry broke. The people he had trusted most had betrayed him. Shock quickly turned to rage. And Harry's magic responded.

Vernon Dursley was in bliss. He had finally broken his freakish nephew. All it had taken was a couple of thrusts and the boy had broken down in tears.  
And Vernon was thoroughly enjoying the act of raping his nephew. This was so much better than sex with Petunia. Vernon loved the sensation of total control and the knowledge that he was causing Harry pain. 'I should have thought of this sooner' he thought. Vernon closed his eyes and let himself be overwhelmed by pleasure. He didn't notice when Harry's tears stopped, when the objects in the room began to shake. Vernon was so close. All he need was a little more and he would reach completion. With one final plunge, he shuddered and came inside his nephew.

Vernon pulled back. "Well boy, I think you've learned your lesson this time." The objects in the room stopped shaking.

"Do you?" Harry said quietly. He turned around to face his tormentor.

Vernon finally noticed that something was off. The boy was surrounded by a darkness that was completely impenetrable by any form of light. Neither the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window nor the dim artificial lighting of the room affected it. Vernon began to back away.

"Don't try anything freaky boy. That school of yours will kick you out."

Harry snarled. "What makes you think I care anymore?" And with that, the dark magic that had been building around him lashed out, cutting off Vernon's airways.

"Boy.." Vernon wheezed, "You can't do this to me...I'm your uncle."

Harry said nothing. He was enraged. Everyone he had trusted had betrayed him. He had been violated. And now, his abuser dared to speak to him _again_. Harry's magic tightened it's hold on Vernon Dursley. He was not going to escape. Harry watched as Vernon choked, struggling to try and remove the invisible hands that held his throat. Vernon's face slowly turned an unnatural shade of blue. His limbs began to shake. Vernon struggled to remain conscious as his oxygen supply was completely cut off. However it was to no avail. Deprived of oxygen for too long, Vernon Dursley died.

It was not until Vernon Dursley fell to the floor, eyes wide and unseeing, that Harry realized what had happened. Harry struggled not to vomit. He had been raped. He had killed someone. Unable to accept the events of the past hour, Harry's mind went numb. He slowly put on his clothes and left the room.

* * *

Harry soon found himself back on the swings in the park. He couldn't think. He stared blankly into the distance, waiting for the horrible dream to stop. It had to be a dream. There was no way that...he couldn't have...

It was in this state of shock that the Death Eaters found him.

Having successfully disposed of Harry's single guard without raising any alarms, four Death Eaters strolled into the muggle park and surrounded Harry Potter.

"Aw, did ickle baby Potter have a bad day?"

Harry started. He hadn't expected to hear that voice for a long time.

"What are you doing here? How did you get past the guard?" Harry's voice was calm, but inwardly he was panicking. He didn't have his wand. He didn't have his broom. How could he possibly escape this time?

"What, Kinsley Shacklebolt?" came the voice of Lucius Malfoy from behind one of the masks, "He was remarkably easy to deal with. Did the Order really only send one guard to protect their savior?"

"You...killed him?"

"Well not me personally, I think Bella had the pleasure..."

Harry sighed and resigned himself. "Get on with it then. Voldemort ordered you to kill me, didn't he?"

"Oh you wish Potter," said one of the others, chuckling darkly. Harry didn't recognize the voice. "_Stupefy_."

Harry's world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter up!

Nox In Aeternum Est

Rated: M

Summary: Harry Potter is depressed. He's already lost Sirius, what else could go wrong? Apparently a lot. Warning: will contain rape, torture, language, and SLASH. Dark Harry. Eventual HP/LV, still working out the details. Do not read if you can't handle it. You have been warned, I expect no flames. This is my first story, so constructive criticism would be nice.

**Chapter 2**

Harry awoke with a groan. His head was throbbing unpleasantly. He had greatly preferred being unconscious. At least when he was out he didn't have to think or feel. But he was awake now, and he needed to figure out what predicament he had gotten himself into this time. So, Harry began to assess his situation. The first thing registered was excruciating pain. Though used to waking up with painful welts, he was slightly concerned about the state his back was currently in. Blood had long since dried over his wounds, but because no one had cleaned them before they closed, they had become infected. Harry shifted, gasping as his shirt rubbed against his inflamed back. That was not good. Harry didn't know any healing magic, let alone _wandless_ healing magic. He was going to have to suffer until someone either healed him or he died.

Trying to make himself as comfortable as possible, Harry noted that he was indeed chained to the wall. Shackles tightly bound his wrists and ankles, however, the chains were long enough that he could almost lay down. It could be worse, he supposed, they could have given him less room to manuever. Harry gave one of the chains an experimental tug. No luck there. The anchor remained firmly embedded in the wall.

The room Harry was in was pitch black, but for a small crack of light coming from underneath what appeared to be the only door. As Harry's eyes adjusted he saw that he was in a basement or dungeon of some sort. The walls were made of dark grey blocks of stone. Pipes ran across the ceiling, every so often dripping their contents onto Harry. Harry hoped that it was water.

Finding his situation to be quite grim, Harry let his mind wander. There was no point planning an escape. If Dumbledore couldn't...no, more accurately, _wouldn't_ save him from his uncle, he wasn't going to save him now. Dumbledore must have had ways of knowing what went on in the Dursley household. Afterall, wasn't he the most powerful wizard the Light side had? Harry found it hard to believe that Dumbledore couldn't have stopped a muggle. No, thought Harry, Dumbledore must have known what was happening and _chose to ignore it_. Even if Dumbledore himself couldn't have made it in time, he could have sent a member of the Order to stop Vernon, had he cared to. Hell, Kingsley Shacklebolt had been right outside the house. But no one had come Harry's rescue.

Harry wasn't willing to continue with that line of thought. He couldn't bear the thought that his protector hadn't cared enough to save him. He just wanted to sleep. His mind couldn't process the events prior to his capture. He was physically and mentally at his limit. And so, Harry allowed himself to sleep.

_He was back in his room at the Dursleys. Hedwig was hooting softly. Harry strained to listen. _  
_"Harry..."_  
_Harry turned around looking for the voice only to find Hedwig. He walked over to her cage._  
_"Hey there girl," Harry said softly, opening the door to her carrier. _  
_"Harry," said Hedwig, her face morphing into uncle Vernon's. His face was blue, his eyes were vacant. "What have you done?" the thing screeched, flying at his face.*_  
_Harry fell back onto the bed in alarm only to find the thing was gone. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. _  
_"Boy!"_  
_'No' Harry thought, panic rising in his throat, 'No, this can't be happening _again_!'_  
_Vernon__ Dursley burst his way into the room. _  
_"Shirt off!"_  
_"No!" Harry screamed "You can't do this to me! I won't let you."_  
_"You don't have a choice."_  
_Harry suddenly found himself naked, face down on the bed once more. His uncle was thrusting into him, over and over again. Harry was once again filled with a sensation of rage. When the knife appeared in his right hand, he didn't even think to question how it had gotten there. Nor did he question how he managed to throw his uncle off of him. All he could think about was the satisfaction he felt when he slid the knife into his uncle's fat belly. The pleasure he experienced as Harry ripped the knife through his uncle's stomach, watching as the man struggled to hold his intestines in, failed, and died._

Harry started awake. Footsteps alerted him to the fact that he had company.

"Well well, looks like Potter's finally awake. Alert the Dark Lord."

Harry remained silent. He recognized the voice as belonging to Lucius Malfoy.

"_Lumos_."

Suddenly, a bright light filled the room. Harry shut his eyes in pain.

"Come now Potter, I haven't even done anything yet. _Open your eyes_." Harry caught the implied threat and slowly tried to open his eyes. What he saw made him want to shut them again.

He was in a dungeon-like room, as he had perceived before. However there were certain things he had missed when the room was still dark. Like the knife collection to his left. Or what looked like various instruments of torture hanging on the wall to his right. Harry dearly wished to go back to sleep.

Lucius sighed. He really didn't want to dirty his hands. He preferred the more delicate work being a Death Eater offered, like politics. Still, the Dark Lord had specifically requested that he do this. As his loyal servant, he had to obey.

Lucius walked over to the Potter boy. He had been told the boy was in bad condition. He soon found the problem - the boy's shirt was sticking to him in the back, dark with old blood. Lucius sighed again. This was going to be messy.

Harry had remained calm as Lucius Malfoy had walked over to him and examined his blood stained back. However when Lucius pulled a large dagger out of his robes, Harry started to panic. Harry did the only thing he could do while defenseless and unable to run; he curled himself into a ball and prayed that he wasn't about to be stabbed to death.

"On your knees Potter, I'm not going to kill you. Only the Dark Lord has that privilege."

"That's sooooo reassuring Malfoy," Harry said sarcastically. But he did as he was told. He should have known it would be a mistake.

Lucius lifted up the boy's shirt. He ran the dagger's tip down Harry's back. "Potter, hold still. If you move, you'll only make it worse." And with that, Lucius began to cut away at the scabs on Harry's back, letting his wounds bleed anew. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. Lucius didn't seem to notice; he was quietly humming as he scrapped the dried blood off of Harry's back.

Harry nearly sobbed in relief when he no longer felt the blade. Blood dripped slowly down his back. He didn't notice when Lucius pulled a plastic bottle from his robes.

Lucius opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol. Yes, he had been told to "take care of the boy's wounds in the most painful way you can think of," but he despised having to do such dirty work himself. He sighed once again. It wasn't his place to question his master's orders, not matter how...unpleasant they were to carry out.

Harry's relief was short-lived. When Lucius poured the rubbing alcohol onto his back he couldn't help it. He screamed. His back felt like it had been lit on fire. Tears came pouring out. Harry was barely conscious by the time Lucius was carefully wrapping gauze around his injuries.

"It's over Potter," Lucius said softly.

Harry promptly fainted.

* * *

*In some cultures owls are considered the harbingers of death and illness.

I know I'm having Harry pass out a lot so far, but really, doesn't he pass out constantly in the books?

Sorry that this is a lot shorter than the last chapter, I can always add a scene if you guys think it's too short. Let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

Third chapter up! Please review!

Nox In Aeternum Est

Rated: M

Summary: Harry Potter is depressed. He's already lost Sirius, what else could go wrong? Apparently a lot. Warning: will contain rape, torture, language, and SLASH. Dark Harry. Eventual HP/LV, still working out the details. Do not read if you can't handle it. You have been warned, I expect no flames. This is my first story, so constructive criticism would be nice.

**Chapter 3**

Hermione had a morning routine. Every morning the alarm would go off at 7am. She would rise, hair everywhere and eyes half-lidded. Seeing as the only other people in the house were her parents, she didn't particularly care how she looked in the mornings. Hermione would then grab her morning cup of coffee and the day's newspapers and sit in her favorite armchair to read them. Hermione subscribed to both the _Daily Prophet_, the popular wizarding paper, and _The Times_, an equally popular newspaper among the muggles.

Recently, Hermione had been aghast to discover the front page article of the _Daily Prophet_ sporting a picture of Azkaban's gates blasted open. As she read further, she saw that all of the death eaters who had been captured after the events at the Department of Mysteries had escaped. All eleven of them, including the now infamous Lucius Malfoy, were at large once again.

However this newest breach of Azkaban wasn't much of a surprise to her. Afterall, if Voldemort could free his death eaters once, who was to say he couldn't do it again?

No, this news, while terrifying, was not much of a surprise to the brilliant Hermione Granger. The real surprise came a few days later, as she was flipping through _The Times_.

**Ongoing Investigation into the Death of Vernon Dursley**

_At around 7pm on July 6th, Surrey Memorial Hospital received a frantic call from one Petunia Dursley saying that after she had finished cooking dinner she had discovered her husband was missing. She had gone searching for him only to find him lying naked on the floor of one of the bedrooms. She had sobbed into the phone that he was cold to the touch, unresponsive, and his face was an unnatural shade of blue. A medical team quickly arrived on the scene, but they were too late to revive Mr. Dursley. The unusual circumstances surrounding the man's death prompted the lead EMT to put in a call to the Surrey Police. It was clear to the medical professionals that the man had suffocated to death. _

_But it was unclear whether this was a case of homicide. _

_A quick scan of the man's body revealed that Vernon Dursely had engaged in sexual activity shortly before his death. _

_According to Petunia, their nephew, Harry Potter, was the only other person in the house at the time. _

_Also found in the room with man's body was a bloodstained belt and an equally bloodstained floor. Police suspect that Vernon Dursley had been physically abusing his nephew, including sexual abuse. The DNA testing of evidence collected from the room has yet to be completed. _

_Police sources confirm that the most puzzling aspect of this case is the autopsy of Vernon Dursley. The cause of death is listed as asphyxia due to a combination of compression of the throat and jugular veins. As there was no evidence to point to the man having committed suicide, it all pointed to the nephew strangling his uncle to death. However, medical records note that there was no bruising of any kind on the man's throat. Unlike usual strangulation where there is either bruising left by the murderer's hands, or ligiture marks left by the murder weapon, neither were present. _

_It was as if the throat collapsed itself._

_At this point the police still have many questions. Unfortunately Harry Potter was missing from his relatives' house at the time the medical team arrived, and has not returned since. He is the only person still alive who might be able to solve this mystery. _

_Please contact the Surrey Police if you have information regarding Harry Potter._

Hermione nearly choked on her coffee.

"Mum," she called, trying to keep the panic out of her voice, "I'm going to go into Diagon Alley later today, I need to send some letters."

* * *

Dumbledore was a wreck. He didn't have time for an adequate amount of sleep anymore. Considering recent events, it was a surprise he slept at all.

First, there had been the Azkaban breakout. All the Death Eaters that had been captured in the aftermath of the battle at the Department of Mysteries had escaped. Dumbledore rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. And then there was Harry.

About a week ago, Dumbledore had been alerted to a problem at the Dursley household. While decorative, the silver objects in his office were also practical. One of them was linked to a spell placed on the Dursley household to detect dark magic. If dark magic was used anywhere in the house, the normally silver object would turn an shining gold and begin to shriek like a tea kettle. Dumbledore had thought at the time that the object must have been malfunctioning. However, in a matter of hours, he was proven wrong.

* * *

When Nymphadora Tonks had gone to relieve Kingsley Shacklebolt of his post, she couldn't find him. Assuming he had already apparated back to headquarters and that Harry was safely inside the Dursley house, Tonks had begun her watch.

Soon after, a muggle ambulance had arrived and a bunch of muggles had rushed into the house. Tonks was worried out of her mind. When the muggles had exited the house and begun to talk amongst themselves, she strained to listen.

"Never seen anything like it..." one of the muggles was saying. She crept closer, keeping hidden underneath an invisibility cloak.

"I mean, normally the person's at least wearing _clothes_," the muggle said in disgust, "What could he have been doing to have suffocated to death _naked_?"

Dead. According to this man, someone in the house was dead. Tonks thought it was likely that it was the overweight uncle who had kicked the bucket. At least, she hoped it was. The wizarding world couldn't afford to lose Harry Potter. And, she added as an afterthought, there was no way the boy who lived could be killed by _muggles_.

One of the other muggles snickered. The one who had spoken turned red and shouted "Shut up!"

"But seriously guys," said another muggle, "this looks like it could be a homicide. We should call the police." Homicide? Tonks didn't know that word.

"You thinking he might have been strangled to death? Come on, someone that large couldn't have been overpowered that easily."

Tonks breathed a sigh of relief. The muggle had said that the dead person was big. That meant it couldn't be Harry. The situation wasn't looking good, but at least it wasn't Harry dead on the floor. If Harry had killed his uncle...well, they could deal with that, but they needed Harry alive. Dumbledore had told her and Harry's other guards to protect the boy with their lives if necessary. Harry is crucial to defeating Voldemort, he had said. Tonks believed that if Dumbledore had said it, it must be true. Therefore, she would focus on finding Harry and getting him out of this mess; she could worry about whether Harry was a murderer later.

"Dunno, it's really weird. The guy's throat looks like it's been crushed, but there's no bruising of any kind. It's like the throat collapsed itself."

The muggles laughed nervously. "You must have just missed them. Come on, let's leave the theorizing to the medical examiner. We've done our job."

Tonks was getting frantic. The muggles had called the police, and still no sign of Harry in or around the house. The remaining Dursleys were waiting outside the house with the other muggles, but Harry wasn't with them. Tonks decided she had to risk leaving her post to go check the park that Harry frequented. She had to find him.

Tonks had quickly arrived at the park and looked around. Harry wasn't on the swings. She checked behind the bushes near the edge of the park. Bile began to rise in her throat. Instead of finding Harry Potter, she had found the body of Kinsley Shacklebolt. She had apparated back to headquarters as fast as she could.

She had quickly floo-called Dumbledore's office to alert him to her findings. But it was too late; by the time Dumbledore arrived at the Dursley's, Harry was long gone. He had returned to his office knowing the incident would make it into the muggle papers.

* * *

Dumbledore had held onto the hope that Harry had fled to one of his friends. That hope had vanished with the arrival of letters from Hermione Granger and, shortly after, from Ron Weasley demanding to know where Harry was.

Dumbledore sighed again. He feared the worst had befallen Harry. He would have to hold a meeting to inform Harry's friends, as well as the Order, what to expect if they couldn't find Harry soon.


End file.
